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| - "Milady, lady Dlanor has arrived." "Oh what is this! The inquisition has come just to check the outline, and what's more it's the head inquisitor! The Great Court seems to have a lot of free time, or a surplus of manpower." "......By my preciding witness, I expect your game will be unfathomly difficult and SPLENDID." "No need to flatter; have a seat. Ronove, prepare some tasty tea and cookies for the head inquisitor." "Yes, milady." "No, that's ALRIGHT. More importantly, I would like to see it right AWAY." It was the manuscript for the new game. Dlanor gave a bow, and accepted it. However, even so,
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| abstract
| - "Milady, lady Dlanor has arrived." "Oh what is this! The inquisition has come just to check the outline, and what's more it's the head inquisitor! The Great Court seems to have a lot of free time, or a surplus of manpower." "......By my preciding witness, I expect your game will be unfathomly difficult and SPLENDID." "No need to flatter; have a seat. Ronove, prepare some tasty tea and cookies for the head inquisitor." "Yes, milady." "No, that's ALRIGHT. More importantly, I would like to see it right AWAY." "Very well. The outline is complete. But I'm still in the middle of decorating it as a story." Beato pushed her way through a pile of manuscripts on top of her desk and pulled out a single bundle. It was the manuscript for the new game. Revised countless times with various notes and tabs attached, it eminated a kind of dignified presense. Dlanor gave a bow, and accepted it. Then amidst the tea vapors as Ronove set the table, she turned over the front cover. "What is the name of the game this TIME?" "There isn't one yet. I always wait until I have completely finished writing the story before thinking of a name." "UNDERSTOOD. ......Then with no delay, I shall begin the READING. Although if I may say, it is disappointing that my first reading will be before it has become a beatifully arranged STORY." "Kukkukukuku. That is the biggest disappointment of all!" "............It seems that this time, too, it will be a truly complex and mysterious INCIDENT. ......I am really looking foreword to seeing just how this will be elevated to 'story' STATUS." "No need to flatter. Hurry and turn the page. I feel as if I am the newbie mangaka putting my manuscript in front of the editor." Beato made a rougish smile, and Dlanor returned the same expression. Dlanor had in her hands, ......the so-called "unfinished manuscript". No, on it's way to becoming a manuscript, it had a plot in the middle of it's construction mixed in- it was truly an unformed thing. If we were to use Beato's style of speech, ......it's just as if it was the milky form of ice cream before it was frozen. No, it's probably even less complete than that. It's still egg yolk, milk, and raw cream cast into a bowl and at the height of its mixing stage. "......It really is just like the egg of a TALE. You carefully put time into keeping it warm and cause it to HATCH." "If I could, I would love to show it to you as magnificent ice cream, since I wanted to allow you to fully appreciate it." "Of course, that would be IDEAL. ......However, I think this makes for the next best THING." Because, even if it's in an incomplete state now, the recipe is still exposed. We can see the precious other side of it; the side we could never see from a completed story. Those able to see this are... Only the witch who wrote the tale herself, and... the very few observers she allows. This is the unfinished, before it becomes ice cream... manuscript, in a muddy chaos soup state. In fact, it's missing the narrative development characteristic of a story; it's not even complete as any kind of reading material. However, even so, The Infinite Witch Beatrice's secret recipe, yet discerned by no one, is recorded upon it. To a chef, her recipes and her kitchen are sacred ground. To desecrate that is the greatest sacrilege. However, for those who admire delicacies, it is also the forbidden honey that no one can resist. This is not an example of one of Beato's interests, ... but we could instead say it's an example of one of Featherine's. From here on, what is recorded is... the cat's... guts. From here on, turning the pages means splitting the cat's stomach open and killing it. To love the cat, then kill it and enjoy it again. Those were Bernkastel's words, but they were originally uttered by Featherine. So I inquire of thee. Doth thou kill the cat? Or not? The ancient Featherine has regretted splitting the stomachs of and killing thousands of tales. And, in the relationship of irreversability between knowing and not knowing, she even likened not knowing to that of noble virginity. Thus, I must at least inquire of thee. Doth thou kill the cat? Or not? Beyond lies... the inside of the cat's stomach.
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